by David Wood
“Roger! Over.”
Kennedy didn’t bother to hide; he didn’t bother to creep. He strode forward, cutting down the men one at a time. One actually charged toward him, brandishing a spear. Kennedy’s shot took him in the throat. Another managed to fire off a single arrow, which went wide, before Kennedy shot him down, too.
He strode through the village, putting a bullet in every man who didn’t look dead. He killed everyone he saw: those who fought, those who ran, those who dropped their weapons and tried to surrender. The pyramid rose up in front of him, and he smiled. His objective lay just on the other side, and anyone who tried to stand in his way would regret it.
Wesley barreled down the winding path, his rifle at the ready, but no one rose up to challenge him. Not a single arrow flew. He didn’t even see anyone running away from him. Damn! Kennedy had held him back so long that all the defenders had retreated, probably to the pyramid. It wasn’t fair. He had made the same trek everyone else had, and survived the zombie Indians down in the canyon. He deserved his chance to see this operation to the end. He quickened his pace, determined not to miss any more of the fighting.
He burst forth into a residential area. Dirt paths worn smooth over the ages ran between stone houses and wood and thatch huts. He saw the glow of fire to the left and to the right. Some of the huts must be burning. He kept an eye out for anyone who might take a shot at him, but still saw nothing. The sound of gunfire told him that fighting was going on up ahead where the pyramid lay.
He rounded the giant stone structure at full-tilt and came out on a well-tended greenspace. Up ahead, a ring of defenders knelt at the base of a tree. One of them spotted him, shouted a warning, and a cloud of arrows flew in his direction. He dropped and rolled, letting the projectiles pass over him. Shoot at him, would they? He’d show them. Springing to his feet, he unloaded with his grenade launcher.
Gunshots rang out up ahead as Maddock dashed forward, careful to remain behind cover as much as possible. He heard more shots, and cries of pain as men fell to ScanoGen’s assault.
The pyramid loomed up in front of him, and he clambered up to the first level to get a better vantage point.
He reached the far side and stopped short as gouts of flame burst all around the sacred tree. Every man who stood in its defense was blown off his feet by the fiery blast. The shooter kept coming, firing two more grenades, and then switching to rifle fire.
Maddock took aim, but before he could squeeze the trigger, something invisible thwacked the ScanoGen man in the gut, and he tumbled backward, rifle falling from lifeless hands. Maddock recognized Bones’s whoop of delight. Good man.
That was when the shooter Maddock had been stalking made his presence known. He fired off a grenade that exploded somewhere near Bones’s hiding place. Maddock didn’t have time to look for his friend. He had finally spotted the attacker, who wasn’t watching the pyramid, but was looking to see if he’d gotten Bones.
Cold determination fixed Maddock’s resolve. He lined up his shot, took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger. He didn’t need to look to know he’d hit his target, but he took a grim satisfaction in watching the man fall from a perfect shot to the head.
He dashed around the pyramid, the faint light of the burning tree flickering across its eroded surface. Reaching the far corner, he sprang down and called Bones’s name, and was relieved to hear his friend answer, though his voice was weak.
His relief was short-lived, because just then, a dark figure smashed into him, and he tumbled to the ground, his M-16 clattering to the ground. As he grappled with his attacker, he struck out blindly and his fist met bone in a glancing blow that didn’t do much damage. The man struck back, but Maddock ignored the punch, focusing on trapping the man’s arm.
He was a big man with a buzz cut and a scar on his right cheek. This was Kennedy, whom Tam had described as the most dangerous of the ScanoGen force. Maddock barely had time to register the thought when Kennedy raised a knife and brought it plunging down.
Maddock put up an arm to block the strike, but before the knife could find its target, a snarling black shadow flew out of the night. Kennedy shouted in surprise as he was bowled over. He rolled to the side beneath the dark shape that continued to snarl.
Unburdened by Kennedy’s weight atop him, Maddock clambered to his feet and saw the man fleeing from Hamilcar, who was brandishing an ancient sword, and three men armed with spears. Isa the jaguar stood protectively in front of Maddock, her teeth bared at the retreating figure. She had come to his aid at just the right time.
Maddock knelt and scratched her between the shoulder blades. She nuzzled his arm and purred contentedly. “I should take you home with me, girl. Do you think you’d like it on the beach?”
He heard Bones call his name, followed the sound of his friend’s voice, and found him lying on the ground, shaking his head. Tam lay in a heap nearby, bleeding from a scalp wound.
“She’s not dead,” Bones grunted. “But she’s out cold. How many did we get?”
“I got the guy who shot the grenade at you.”
“Nice one, bro.” Bones rubbed his temple. “He gave me one hell of a headache. Tam got one and I got that guy over there. That just leaves one more.”
“Kennedy. He just bolted.” Maddock hauled Bones to his feet.
“Looks like we failed.” Bones shook his head sadly as he stared at the ruined tree. Despite his devil-may-care exterior, Bones retained some of his people’s values, and his regard for nature was one of them. He would not relish the destruction of any ancient tree, but this one was particularly tragic.
Maddock looked at the charred remains of what, just minutes before, had been a one-of-a kind, miracle of nature. Its silver bark was now a scorched, black hull. The limbs had been blown apart, the leaves incinerated, and now the single fruit was a shriveled ruin in the midst of the burning remnants. No one would ever make use of its power again, but perhaps that was for the best.
“Do we go after Kennedy?” Bones asked.
“I don’t think you’re up to it. Besides, he’s alone and unarmed. I think they can handle him. Let’s get help for Tam.”
“I’m all right.” Tam was sitting with her head between her knees. “Just a little cut.”
Maddock knelt and inspected the wound. It wasn’t deep. Still, the girl was tough. “Let’s get this patched up, and then we’ll get out of here.”
Chapter 31
Matt met them at the entrance to the pyramid. Willis stood guard just inside.
“Is it over?” Willis asked, a touch of disappointment in his tired voice.
“We think so.” Maddock helped Tam inside, where Matt hastily cleaned and bandaged her wound. Thomas and Kaylin joined them, and Maddock and Bones recounted the details of the fight.
“At least it’s finished,” Kaylin sighed. “Please tell me we can go home now.”
“Kaylin, can we talk?” Thomas shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flitting from side-to-side.
“What is it?” There was a wariness in her voice, as if she feared the subject he was about to broach.
“Let’s go somewhere private, all right?” Thomas took her hand and turned to lead her away, but froze at the sound of someone running down the corridor.
Fawcett burst into the room. “You’ve got to get out of here right now!” he gasped, sweat pouring down his pallid face. “They’re coming for you!”
Maddock couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who is coming? More ScanoGen agents?”
“No. The locals. They blame you all for leading the ScanoGen men here, and they plan on punishing you for it. They’re still arguing amongst themselves, but it won’t take them long to work up the courage.”
“We saved their butts.” Bones looked like he was ready to take them all on. “And this is how they thank us? Bring ‘em on!”
“Forget it, Bones,” Maddock said. “We’ll go. No point in fighting to save their lives only to kill them ourselves. Let’s
get the hell out of here.”
Hand on his Walther, he pushed past Fawcett and headed down the corridor, headed toward the exit. He didn’t want to fight these people, but he and his friends would walk free, whether they liked it or not. No going quietly; no being locked up again.
“Not that way!” Fawcett snapped. “You’ll walk right into the middle of them. You’ll have to take the other way out. The escape route I told you about.” He indicated the dark, downward-sloping passageway that led deep in the heart of the pyramid.
“You heard him,” Maddock said to his friends. “Let’s go. Anyone need a hand?” He looked at Willis and Tam, both of whom shook their heads. They, along with Bones and Matt, followed Fawcett down into the darkness while Maddock hung back to cover the rear. Kaylin tried to follow the others, but Thomas pulled her back.
“Kaylin, wait a moment. I wish I could do this another way and,” he glanced at Maddock, “in another place. I want you to stay here with me.” Kaylin gaped. “Hear me out. It’s wonderful here. The people have lived in peace for over two thousand years. Even the animals are tame. You didn’t see the real Kephises. It’s a paradise! We could have the perfect life here. There’s a lifetime of study here. You can learn about their history, culture, language, architecture, even their art and music. There is a whole Kephises you haven’t seen yet, and we can discover it together in a place of peace and beauty.”
Maddock thought this was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. These people would likely hold Thomas, and certainly Kaylin, just as responsible for the carnage ScanoGen had inflicted on their home as they did Maddock and the others. He expected Kaylin to laugh, or at least tell him he was insane, but instead she looked… uncertain. Her eyes flitted from Thomas to Maddock, and back to Thomas again.
“I don’t know…” she began.
“Stay with me.” Thomas dropped to his knees. “Be my wife. They accepted me here. They’ll accept you, too. We can help them rebuild their city. Just think, we can be a part of an ancient race that has lasted for two millennia. No one gets that chance. Not ever!”
Kaylin appeared frozen in place. How could she even consider this? She looked at Maddock, and a question seemed to hang in the air. What did she want him to do? Talk her out of it? The hell with that! If she was crazy enough to stay here, let her.
And then it struck him. What was it that really bothered him? The fact that she might choose, in his estimation, the dangerous course of staying here and risking the wrath of the people of Kephises, or that she couldn’t seem to decide whether she wanted him or Thomas? In any case, there was no time to ponder it further.
“I think you’re both crazy if you stay here,” he said. “Mobs aren’t known to be judicious, and if they’re half as angry as Fawcett seems to believe, it’s not a risk you should take. Whatever you decide, though, you need to make up your mind now. They could be here any second, and we’re bugging out.”
Kaylin took Thomas’s face in her hands. “Come with us,” she whispered. “It’s not safe for you here.”
“I see.” Thomas’s tone was as flat as the expression on his face. He pulled her hands away and stepped back. “You made your choice.” His eyes flitted in Maddock’s direction for the briefest of moments. “Now go.”
“Thomas, please.”
“No!” Thomas turned his back on Kaylin, crossed his arms, and stared at the wall. “Hurry, before they catch up with you all. I’ll tell them I think you went into the forest. That should buy you some time.”
Tears running in rivulets down her cheeks, Kaylin bolted the room, and Maddock followed. He didn’t know what to say to Kaylin, and frankly, he wasn’t inclined to talk to her right now. Maybe, if they both got out of this mess in one piece, they would talk about it then.
The passageway led down into an antechamber, the walls of which were carved with scenes from Carthage’s history, mostly great military victories. Maddock felt a pang of regret that he could not stop to examine them more closely. I find Fawcett’s lost city and I don’t get to stay but for a few hours, he thought.
The antechamber opened into a room about forty feet square, its walls angled inward, approximating the shape of the pyramid outside, meeting at a tiny shaft far overhead. Two flickering oil lamps flanked an ancient Grecian urn atop a stone altar, which was supported by a four foot-high block of stone, in the room’s center. Maddock did a double-take, realizing this urn was very likely the legendary Pandora’s Box.
“About time,” Bones greeted them. “Thought you’d decided to stay here and play hero a little longer.”
Maddock shook his head and inclined his head toward Kaylin. Bones took one look at her face, still wet from tears, and understanding filled his eyes. “Gotcha. Sorry, Kaylin.”
“This is the temple,” Fawcett explained unnecessarily. “The way out is back here.” He waved for them to come around to the back side of the altar.
“I’m surprised no one is in here,” Maddock observed. “No priests?’
“The guards have all left to fight. The priestess who was to have been here tending the flame is, um, a close friend of mine. She chose to tend to the wounded for a little while. Long enough for you to make your escape.”
Maddock rounded the altar and watched Fawcett place his hand over a symbol carved in the stone block on which the altar rested, and press down. A trap door sprang open, revealing a low, dark tunnel.
“In here,” Fawcett said, motioning toward the opening. Bones took the lead, and the others followed, until only Maddock remained. Fawcett grabbed his arm. “Listen carefully. You will come out at an underground river. Follow it down to where it ends in a box canyon. At the far end of the canyon, you will find the black water.’
“What is the black water?”
“You followed my great-grandfather’s map, did you not?” Maddock nodded, and Fawcett continued. “All I know is that you should have left the river and passed into the black water.”
“Okay. I know the place you’re talking about.” He meant the lagoon where they had left their boats. Perfect.
“Take this.” Fawcett shoved a small pouch of woven grass into his hand. “It is the last seed from the tree. Take it somewhere safe. Its power is great, as is its potential for harm, and for that reason, we cannot risk those men coming back for it.” He paused. “But something so wondrous should not pass from this world.”
“But, this rightfully belongs to Kephises!” Maddock protested. “It’s their secret to guard, not ours.”
Fawcett laughed. “It is a secret that once belonged to Carthage. Before that, it was Athens’s secret, Sparta’s before that, and so on. The tree does not belong to any one people. Not forever, at any rate.”
“What happens when they find it gone?”
“I rubbed ash on an avocado seed and switched them out. It looks quite similar. I don’t doubt the priesthood will discover the switch when it comes time for planting. By that time, you will be long gone, and hopefully they will blame one of you. No offense.”
“None taken.” The bag had a long drawstring of vine, so Maddock hung it around his neck and tucked the pouch inside his shirt. “Thank you.” He shook Fawcett’s hand and turned to make his escape.
“One last thing,” Fawcett said. “The legends say the box canyon is the domain of the mapinguari. Be careful.”
Maddock was halfway into the passageway, but he stopped and looked back. “What is a mapinguari?”
“A monster, I suppose. That’s all I know.” Fawcett looked around. “I had better go. They can’t know that I helped you. It is not my life I care about, but my friend’s. Good luck!” He hastily pushed the trapdoor closed, leaving Maddock in darkness.
It had been far too easy to elude his pursuers, Kennedy thought. They certainly lacked the tracking skills of the natives of this region. If this place truly was a remnant from the ancient world, isolation had caused them to go soft. He had outdistanced them, doubled back, and slipped past their line. It might have appeared that he
’d fled in panic, but it had been a strategic retreat. He was out of allies and weapons, save his KA-BAR.
How had he let himself lose it like that? When he saw Brown lying dead, something inside him had snapped, just like in Kandahar. He couldn’t let it happen again. This mission was a hair’s breadth from failure, and it would take all his skills and a bigger dose of luck to get him through.
The minutes crept by, and gradually the people retired to their quarters, leaving only a few out on patrol. He needed to catch one of them alone so he could get some answers.
As if on cue, a man came strolling down the path toward Kennedy’s hiding place. Incredibly, he appeared to be unarmed and unconcerned about his own safety. When the man passed by, Kennedy raised up, grabbed him from behind, and dragged him into the undergrowth.
“You speak English?” Kennedy growled his hand pressing down on the man’s nose and mouth. The man nodded, though his eyes were on Kennedy’s KA-BAR, which hovered a few inches from his face. The man held Kennedy’s wrist in a firm grip, keeping the knife at bay, but Kennedy was stronger; even as the man held on, the knife moved incrementally closer.
“I want to know what Thomas Thornton was after.”
The man gave his head a little shake, as if he did not know what Kennedy was talking about, but there had been a momentary flash of understanding in his eyes that Kennedy did not miss. He knew something! Kennedy leaned a little harder, and the knife moved closer. The man was turning purple from lack of air, and the blade of the knife was dangerously close to his eye. Finally, the fight went out of his eyes and he nodded.
“Tell me everything, tell me quiet and fast, and you might live.” He removed his hand and the man sucked in a breath. In short order he had spun an incredible tale of a tree with the power to make a man a killer or a pacifist—at least that was how Kennedy understood it. Apparently, it was also what had spawned those zombie men they had encountered previously. The warrior he had questioned earlier had also claimed the tree was special. A sudden, disturbing thought turned his insides cold.